I DON'T KNOW

Well. I am very disappointed in myself. There are many, many, not so exciting things I could write, (I'm tired of the word "blog") about, but, saying I'm "New at this", seems to be a good enough excuse to get me out of writing about some of the boring Summer days I endure. I'll just recount some of my favorites and then I will just write what comes to mind. Sounds good? Excellent.

Yesterday, was my grandfather's birthday. I didn't really ask anyone how old he is. It was at his house on the lake of which I do not know the name of, and there was food and sitting and swimming in the yellow lake and some more food and some more sitting. A wide majority of the people attending were much too old to "shake some booty", like I suggested. Much of the day was taken up by snacking on these scrumptious chips that it seems they only have, and playing badminton, one of the only games there, while lunch was served. Having missed the apparently "Well cooked, perfect colored" cheeseburgers, I waited until desert to go to town. Only half the cake was gone before I saw that it was out and dashed down the stone steps to the food table. The elders were massaging their stomachs and speaking of politics, the not-so-elders were out fishing, and the children and around 3 teenagers were scattered around doing various things to keep them occupied. The cake was GOOD. Thirty minutes later, having Googled, "How do I get water out of my ears without shaking my head", I was pouring alcohol into my ear, and like Harry Potter magic, the water was gone. I was comfortable once more.

My friend and helper in my war on everything that is right, Brett, will not stop instant messaging me while I AM TRYING TO TYPE, has insisted that I include him in this post. Somehow I will have to find a way to squeeze him in. Ah, that's a good one. Alright, carry on.

This was not one of my prouder moments. It happened last year. At our middle school, in Health Class. Our assignment was to decorate a shoe box with pictures or text from magazines that has something to do about you. Mine was coming along great. Almost none of the pictures had to do with me. Thinking back, I wish I had kept it, to explain in greater detail what went into a project such as this. There was the Aflac duck, a apple. Racking my mind was not much help. Everything else is a blur. But, I promise you, I was wiggling between the lines of doing what I was told to do, and having as much fun as possible. About an hour later, our teacher, (I am so sorry about this, but, she had somewhat of a woman mustache), says "Alright, time to clean up, then we have to get you to your next class." I am all cleaned up and walking back to my chair, and who other than Brett walks up with one of his stupid grins on his face. "Wow, your box is really good, Ben!" He pats me on the back, hard enough to make it hurt. I go and sit down in my chair and hear the girls in the table behind me giggling. Thinking I had my shirt inside out or something, I turn to look at them and one of them points to my back. I grope at the small of my back for a few seconds and rip off a taped piece of paper. It reads, in bold, printed ink, "Sex Offender." The teacher had not noticed. I throw Brett and his laughing table an evil glare and when she says we can go, I race over to tell him off and then to go along and laugh with him. Moral of the story: Never turn your back on Brett.

I assume that was the longest paragraph I have written on here. I decide it's time for Dinner. I will catch you guys later. Holla! (What's wrong with me!?!?)

Money: STILL 210!
I've decided to drop followers because it does not seem to be going up.

Bye guys, hopefully I'll see you soon.